Worst bog situation you have been in.?

cheers Axle....lol

Never got pics of my worst one.
I'll just say HJ75 6 inch lift up to the doors, broke 3 snatch straps and a tow truck cable 8 hours later i got out.

The most recent 2 weeks ago (my rig pics) broke 1 snatch strap and snapped my winch cable. 2 other cars together couldn't move me. Backhoe and hilux together couldn't move me.
I tied a length of nylon rope to the broken winch cable and carefully wrapped it back onthe drum until the steel cable was on about 15 turns and eventually got myself out using the backhoe as a tree at 2am.

Regards
Dave

I will alert my wife to this thread and she can tell you her experience,
as she just spent 4 hours bogged, I was in Darwin.

ROTFLMAO.

Cheers Steve.

Axle,

I will only admit to getting bogged when there are photos to prove it.

This does not look much, but with the back dug in and no other vehicle in front it was a winch recovery. This was in the Vic High Country late last year.







Wayne

This doesn't really count (it wasn't me) but others might want to have a look at this semi that is ..well. . . . . stuck

Axle

I spent a couple of years working in Tassie. Can't remember rightly, but I think they called it Black Bog. Went down to the floor pan once in the high country.

Plenty of laughter from the local fishermen after I went through the gate an got bogged.

Gave them a fair mouth full, and eventually found a fella to pull the car out. Bastard laughed all the way through it, until I threatened to shoot him.

That night we all got together at a BBQ on the edge of the lake and proceeded to get as drunk as..... We were a damn sorry sight the next morning!

If you really want to get bogged, go to Tassie.

LOL

Regards

Kim

Went down for an hours fun before a bbq lunch one Sunday at Holdsworthy army barracks in Sydney, 4 hrs later and 2 cartons poorer, the boys from the barracks extracated me in my pathfinder from a 6-12 inch deep sweet as pie looking stream. Problem was, the boys used to go and get their unimogs (or whatever those big 12 tonne looking things are) bogged in that same stream for recovery practice. The sweet as pie sand base was softer than quicksand and the pathy was in up to the rear tailights and no rear wheels showing at all (completely buried in the sand). Mates Pajero and a snatch strap had no chance of even budging me let alone pulling me out.

Suffice to say, BBQ was postponed and I was in deeper than the preverbial with the mrs who was waiting at home with raw snags for the chef (me) to cook.

Trevor.

Back in the bad old days when it used to rain (the 80's) our work crew bogged a 22 tonne crane borer to the tray in a blokes driveway, so deep in fact the driver couldn't open his door. 5 apprentices digging for 2 days positioning aircraft landing strips with a 20 tonne PTO winch dragging it 100m through granitic sand soup!!
The property owner saying after you should have come in the other way. Well thanks for the warning! :-))
Cheers Craig.............

Heres some photos of my worst bog.

Mid-Nineties trying to get around Lake Goongarrie the quick way.

I was a young fella then and was very embaressed to have to call for help.







Life is full of experiences - that was one of them :))

Cheers

I once bogged a bulldozer almost up to the top of the tracks. Just left it there for a month.

Came back a month later. Had a job getting it out it was almost set in cement. It would have taken days to get it out of the mess it was in while it was wet

Here's an unusual one, back in the early eightes I was working for an agricultural contractor harvesting maize (corn) in Canada. I managed to get the harvester stuck in the basement of a house !! The house had been demolished but the brick basement below ground had been left and just filled in with soil which became a bog as water couldn't escape. It required a back hoe to dig down and demolish the basement wall before my harvester could be winched out. Lots of fun !!!

Jon

(excerpt from my website story BOGGED)

Kevin called me up and said, “ Why don’t you come along?”
The Toyota Club were going camping at Depot Creek Falls on the Saturday night. I had been in there on other occasions and knew the area and Kevin was glad to have us along.

Depot Creek crosses the Stuart Highway a few kilometres south of the Hayes Creek Pub. It is a wet-season creek, which runs into the Douglas River. On its way it tumbles over a series of rapids and over a long flat rock. At the height of its flood one can sit on the rock and slide down it for about 10 metres before dropping down into a large pool. In the dry season there is only a trickle of water seeping out from beneath the rocks.

When we got to the turn off a wall of 2 metre high spear grass was there to meet us. Kevin was the trip leader for the day and was about to set off in the wrong direction when I chipped in over the radio that it would be prudent to go another way. Kevin, in front of all his club members suddenly appointed me trip leader and I did not even belong to the club!

This time around we had a Toyota Bundera. It was quite versatile in the bush with a limited slip differential. I had a PTO winch fitted as well. It was however, the top of the range model, dressed in silver duco with green flashings, chrome bulbar and a sunroof and it was soon to get some scatched duco.

We set off pushing the tall grass down and driving blind, following the contour lines, my compass bearing and a bit of intuition. Fallen trees, old logs and hidden rocks blocked our way from time to time. I headed in the general direction of the falls. Another member of the convoy was into Bush Orienteering, and volunteered to run ahead looking for the best track to take. This helped. At one stage a side mirror was knocked off its perch on the door of our vehicle and Judith got quite annoyed with me as we had only recently purchased the yota.

Slowly but surely we inched our way along the ridge and then dropping down the valley towards the falls. There did not seem to be an ideal shady camping place and Kevin and I drove on a bit further amongst the paperbarks. We instructed everyone to wait, albeit in the sun.

Very soon both our vehicles had sunk in the soft mud and were resting on the chassis rails. Another club member had followed us in and had become bogged as well. He found a tree to anchor off but then his winch short-circuited and burnt out. Profanities streamed over the airwaves as this bloke blamed me for his predicament. Kevin managed to extricate himself and then pulled the other vehicle out and they promptly drove off, leaving us on to fend for ourselves.

I ran the winch cable out to a young tree but it soon let go and toppled over. Then I tried another, and another, and another. I saw this sizeable tree, which was within reach and wrapped the tree protector around it and started winching. It looked like we were on a winner this time. Meanwhile I had trampled the mud around the vehicle into mush. It was oozing over the side steps and ever time one opened the door, the mud was pushed aside. The winch cable was creaking from the strain. All of a sudden I saw this large tree come toppling over towards us. For a brief moment I thought that it was going fall on our truck but it fell to the side only metres away. Some of the branches however came down resting on the engine hood. Judith grabbed the floor mats and put them under the scratching tree limbs. We had to think of another strategy as we could now only winch to our left unless we chainsawed the fallen tree. I found another large tree within the cable reach but at right angles to the truck. Once we had the cable and snatch block attached we slowly winched the truck around and after almost two hours we were back on firm ground.

The club had set up camp and the blokes were having a few beers when Judith sailed into them and told them what a bunch of cowards they were by not coming to help us. We set up camp away from the club, as it was the only place left. That night the campfire was quiet and in the morning the club members packed up and left without so much as to say goodbye. Bastards!

We spent the day by a small wet season waterfall and while Judith painted I scraped the mud out from under the truck and did some other minor repair jobs. Later in the day the wind changed and I heard vehicles struggling under load. I put my boots on and went for a walk. I found the club about one kilometre from our campsite, trying to winch up this hill. They had taken a wrong line and were winching the vehicles at an angle up a hill. In four hours they had progressed one and a half kilometres. I laughed, told them they were nuts and went back to camp.

The following morning we packed up and drove out of the valley. At the top I noticed wheel tracks heading east and knowing that this would leads to a swampy area, I made new tracks along a ridge and within half an hour we were back at the Stuart Highway.

The club had made the tracks to the east and had ventured in to the swamp. It was Tuesday before they arrived back in Darwin!




Cheers

My best effort wasn't really a bogging in the true sense of the word. It happened back in the winter of 2002 when I lived in Yass, NSW. Pud and Barb had their 3L Patrol, I had my then 4.2L Patrol and a mate of Pud's (Lance) had a 2.7L petrol Prado. Pud and I both had 9000lb winches.

We headed into the Brindabellas to go and find McIntyre's Hut. Lance said he knew the way and he was leading. There was snow on the side of the track and it was overcast, miserable and sleeting on and off.

We got to the top of the hill that led down to the hut. Pud and I commented over the radio that this was a bloody steep hill and we hoped we didn't have to come back up this way with the shaley rocks being wet, there would be little traction available.

Once we got there, we had a quick lunch and then it started to rain a bit more constantly. We decided to get back up the hill asap. Pud found another track going back up, but it was only about 50 meters to the left of the one we'd gone down. He siad he'd try getting up it, but half way he radioed to say he had no traction and was gunna start winching. I said I'd give the track we went down on a try.....same result.

We both winched our respective Patrols up to the point on the track where we came back together again. It required 2 lots of winching for each of us (ie: winched up to a certain point/tree, then find another tree further up and have a 2nd go).

Once we were there, we had the problem of Lance, with no winch. We told him to drive up the same track Pud took until he lost traction. Pud and I both turned our Patrols around 180 degrees. At that point, I tied my rear-end off to a tree with my drag chain and attached my winch cable to the back of Pud's Patrol. He drove back down the hill towards Lance with my winch free-spooling until I was down to the first winding level. He got out and chocked his wheels and dragged his winch rope down to Lance's car. He then proceeded to winch Lance up to the front of his own bullbar and chocked Lances wheels. He placed his winch into free-spool.

I then winch Pud's Patrol back up to the front of my Patrol and we again chocked Pud's wheels so he could again winch Lance up to the safe level that we had gotten ourselves up to.

2 hours later and we had managed to get back on the way home......cold, wet and miserable.....but all the wiser for the experience.

Moral of the story: Don't ever follow a Prado driver!!!! hahaha